


Fair fortune shines down

by anamia



Series: The daemon!jolras AU [5]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:19:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamia/pseuds/anamia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Musichetta, Joly, and Bossuet are in love and happy. That's it, that's the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fair fortune shines down

There are some who would call their life hard. Musichetta understood their perspective; she and Dante worked nearly constantly in order to make enough money for food and shelter, and they had no family to lean on for help. Winters were cold and summers hot and they could not quite afford to compensate entirely for either much of the time. They could read, mostly, and they had an excellent head for figures, used primarily to ensure that no one tried to cheat on the bill. Musichetta spent her days warding off the advances of drunken men and listening to people complain, with the occasional vicious argument as change of pace.

Yet neither she nor Dante ever thought to classify their lives as difficult, not when two nights out of three they did not go to their small rooms but to Joly and Jacqueline’s substantially larger ones and the third night either Joly or Bossuet went to theirs. It was difficult to consider life hard when one was paid in Bossuet’s laugh and Joly’s jokes, and when both men looked at her as though she were the most precious thing they had ever seen.

They met Bossuet first, literally running into him on the street one evening on her their home from work. As he was larger than Musichetta, the impact nearly knocked her to the ground and it was only his quick hand on her arm that kept her from falling completely. She glowered at him, Dante barring his teeth from his place around her neck, and Bossuet apologized profusely, begging their pardon with extravagant words and genuine smiles. They found it impossible to stay upset in the face of such an apology, and when they finally made it back to their rooms they admitted to each other that they would not mind running into him again at some point, though preferably metaphorically.

Fate, or possibly luck, was on their side, and it was not two weeks before they caught sight of him once more, strolling down a side street with his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face. He bowed deeply when he caught sight of them, grin widening, and before she quite knew what she was doing she had asked him out to dinner. Musichetta was not usually one to lose her head in romance, but Bossuet let himself into her heart before she realized he had even knocked and she could not bring herself to object in the slightest. Later, she would find out that he did this to everyone. She and Dante agreed that it was the smile that did it, that smile of genuine delight when he caught sight of someone he cared about, the one that assured them that, in that moment, they were truly the most important person in the world.

Joly, they courted far more traditionally. Bossuet had given them permission from the start to see other people if they wished, explaining with a laugh that, with his luck, they would do so whether he wished it or not so he might as well not concern himself. Musichetta had rolled her eyes and smacked him lightly with her fan before kissing him and assuring him that she had no intentions of doing any such thing. The joke, she decided as she found herself fixating on Joly’s reddish-brown hair and freckle-spattered cheeks, was on her.

Joly was a bundle of nerves and good humor, a medical student who used his training as much to diagnose himself as other people, with a dæmon just as jittery and just as kind. Dante took to Jacqueline right away, nestling willingly in her arms from the beginning. It made a formal courtship between their human nearly unnecessary, but they went through the dance anyway, meeting for dinners and taking walks along the Seine and through public parks. Musichetta wore her best clothes and Joly made certain his boots were polished, and they strolled arm in arm down the street like any other couple in love.

It was Dante who told them about Bossuet, voice hesitant even as he clung to Jacqueline’s fur. Man and dæmon stilled for several seconds as Musichetta tried not to let her worry show. Dante had no such compunctions, and his grip on Jacqueline tightened as he made concerned noises under his breath. At last Joly shrugged. “It is hardly traditional,” he said. “But when all parties are aware and agreeable I fail to see why it should pose a problem.”

Musichetta all but ran to him and kissed him deeply, laughing into his lips at his squeak of surprise.

Her two boys met quite by accident, in possibly the worst way possible. It was the morning after first time Joly and Jacqueline spent the night, a bright spring day that seemed practically made for lovers. Joly had stepped out to make them both coffee when the knock sounded on the door. He opened it before Musichetta could intervene and found himself nose to nose with Bossuet, who expressive features cycled through several emotions before settling on amused. Musichetta hurried forward, Dante at her heels, but her intervention turned out not to be required.

“Monsieur Lesgle?” Joly said formally, and Bossuet laughed.

“None of that,” he said. “You’ve slept with my mistress; you have the right to drop the title.”

Joly laughed in return, a little startled by the unusual reaction. Musichetta, on her part, relaxed significantly. She had not truly expected Bossuet to become upset, not knowing him as she did, but the confirmation helped. He caught sight of her and grinned widely.

“You are as beautiful as ever,” he proclaimed. “I had intended to bring you flowers to celebrate the spring, but I’m afraid fate conspired against me once again.” He launched into the tale of his morning, one which contained everything from vengeful pigeons to unhappy cab drivers and a hole in his pocket that had absolutely not been there the day before but somehow allowed his purse to slip out onto the ground somewhere between his rooms and hers. By the time he reached the end both Musichetta and Joly were laughing, their dæmons clinging to each other support, and it was as though the three had known each other for years.

Bossuet stayed for breakfast and the conversation around the table flowed easily. He insisted on helping clean up, nearly managing to flood half her kitchen in the process, and Joly could barely stand from laughing. Bossuet flashed him a broad grin and gave an elaborate bow, proclaiming himself delighted to have provided entertainment. Musichetta too laughed and smacked him lightly with a rag, telling him to finish up before he caused any true disasters.

They went out walking, one boy on each side of Musichetta, all three laughing and talking easily. It felt right, having both of them there, and Musichetta resolved to ensure that this was not a unique event. Dante, from where he sat on Jacqueline’s shoulders, nodded his agreement.

In the end neither man required her encouragement to strike up a friendship. Joly and Jacqueline had taken to Bossuet as quickly as Musichetta and Dante, and within a week they were all but inseparable. She joined them when she could, constrained in ways that they were not because of her job, and the three of them walked hand in hand through Paris or sat in Joly’s rooms tangled up in each other as Joly did Musichetta’s hair and she repaired a tear in Bossuet’s clothing or tried out new cabarets recommended by Bossuet’s friends. Even on the rare nights when Musichetta and Dante found themselves alone they could always expect a delivery of flowers from Bossuet or a handwritten note from Joly, reminders that they were no longer anywhere near alone.


End file.
